


Special Skills

by tygermine



Series: Dramione Drabbles [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV) Fusion, Auror Harry Potter, F/M, Lawyer Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament has been moved to the Auror Office.Three challengers. Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.Who will win the pot of gold?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione Drabbles [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641019
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	Special Skills

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Slytherin Cabal Drabble.  
> Prompt was Triwizard Tournament and I had just finished binge-watching B99. 
> 
> Take from that what you will.

“It’s a pity they don’t have the Triwizard Tournament anymore.”

Draco was sitting at Harry’s desk in the Auror office bullpen, listlessly tossing an inert snitch in the air and catching it.

“Two words, Malfoy,” said Granger as she strode across the room towards him all power suit and comfortable shoes. “Child endangerment.” She dropped her briefcase on Harry’s desk with a thud.

“It wasn’t that dangerous,” Harry shrugged. “I mean, aside from nearly dying and Voldemort coming back,” he amended at the sharp look she shot him.

“I, for one, am glad that they discontinued it,” added Hermione, adjusting her jacket.

“That’s because amongst your many accomplishments, being a killjoy is at the top of the list,” Draco drawled.

“I’m not a killjoy. In fact, I can be a lot of fun,” Granger must have been distracted if she was raising to his bait.

Harry nodded in agreement. “You can be a lot of fun. Remember that one time when we-”

“Yes, that was a good night, but I’m not here to reminisce about good times.”

“Let me guess,” Draco steepled his fingers around the snitch and rested his chin on them. “You’re here to arrest the atmosphere for not being serious enough and throw it in Azkaban for daring to be relaxed?”

Granger rolled her eyes at him and turned to Harry. “Please remind your team of cowboys that pass for Aurors in this circus that the chain of evidence is vital to prosecuting criminals and that if they forget the evidence at a crime scene or at home, I will bring them up on charges.”

“Ron already apologised for his toddler eating the crystalised fungus samples from the other day. She thought they were gumdrops.”

“She spent the whole night high as a kite and now we have no proof that Spilfrusen was selling drugs to minors!”

Draco dropped his feet to the ground and stood up. “Right, this is boring. I’m going to do some actual work.”

Granger turned to him. “As if Unspeakables doing anything worthwhile.”

“Oh yes, because being the head Wizengamot prosecutor really achieves results.”

“It’s not like being an Auror is any easier,” Harry felt the need to add.

“Oh yes, it takes a special skill set to be that incompetent,” Draco sneered.

“Hey, who’s side are you on?” Harry raised his hands. 

“His own,” said Granger, narrowing her eyes. “Everyone knows Unspeakables are just Aurors who couldn’t past the test, so they are sent on suicide missions in the hopes that they don’t come back.”

“Wow, the PMS is strong with you today,” goaded Draco. “Maybe if you were this much of a bitch in court, you’d actually get criminals sent to Azkaban.”

“Hey now,” protested Harry. “I think we all need to take a deep breath and calm-”

“Battle Royale,” Hounslow slid into the conversation from across the bullpen. “We’ll have our own Triwizard Tournament here. Unspeakables versus Aurors versus Lawyers!” 

Granger glared at Draco before giving a curt nod. 

“Meet in the conference room in two minutes,” Hounslow grinned and dashed off to plan the tournament.

“Aren’t we a little old for this?” Harry asked, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“It’s about time we settle this,” said Draco, crossing his arms. “It’s going to be a pleasure bringing you down a notch, Granger.”

“Big talk for such a small man,” she sneered, looking up at him as he stretched to his full height, a good head above her.

Harry left them to their staring match and went to make himself a cup of tea in the kitchenette.

By the time he was done, Hounslow was herding them into the conference room. It wasn’t hard to miss how Granger and Malfoy took seats at opposite ends of the long table and seemed to continue their stare-off. It had this edge to it that made Harry want to loosen his tie and blush.

Hounslow stepped up to the front of the room where a large board was hidden under a curtain.

“Being a law enforcement officer requires a special skill set and a sharp mind. For our Triwizard Tournament, we will be pitting our three contenders against each other in three challenges to see who will be the victor and will finally put an end to the unresolved sexual tension, I mean, the rivalry between our departments.”

The rest of the Aurors had filtered into the conference room by now and chuckled with mirth as they glanced at Hermione and Draco.”

“Our first challenge,” continued Hounslow with a flourish which was entirely unnecessary if you asked the contenders. “An officer of the law needs to be able to connect dots and find the holy trifecta of means, motivation and opportunity which will help them solve the case. I have placed on the board here all the clues for one of our most challenging cases. To this day it remains unsolved. The first challenger to figure out the culprit wins.”

Hermione shot him a withering glare.

“And we can them make the arrest of the elusive criminal,” Hounslow gulped. “You will have an hour. Are you ready?”

Draco huffed in annoyance. “Move it along.”

Hounslow pulled the curtain away and Hermione nearly bowled Harry over in her haste to get to the board. Draco ambled from his seat to stand beside her.

Harry took a seat at the table across from the board and accio’d quills and parchment from one of the nearest desks. His expression was akin to the one he wore whilst completing his Arithmancy OWL.

Hermione was scowling at the board and muttering under her breath.

Draco watched her wearily between reading the clues pinned up.

Some of the Aurors got bored after about ten minutes and went back to their desks, wondering aloud if Maggies Bar across the road would deliver some fish and chips.

Ten minuted later, Hermione let out a loud HA! And crossed her arms, her whole being radiating smugness.

“There’s no way you’ve solved it,” Draco exclaimed.

“And yet here we are.”

“Fine, smartie pants, who’s the killer?”

“As if I’d give you the answer.”

“You’re bluffing. You haven’t figured it out, but you’re pretending to so we’d give up.”

“I’m not that petty.”

“Yes, you are.”

“How dare-”

“We have an answer!” Hounslow called to the other Aurors, who rushed back into the conference room. “Malfoy, Potter, do you concede to Ms Granger?”

Harry leaned back in his seat. “If she can’t solve it, then I know I can’t. Come on ‘Mione, who is it?”

“It was accidental,” Hermione said and Draco snorted at her words. “The room was locked from the inside. If you look at this photo here, it shows a small hole in the wall, which happens to be right next to the fireplace. This caused the oxygen to be sucked out of the room with no inflow of fresh air. The victim suffocated to death.”

The Aurors applauded her announcement. They disliked nothing more than a locked room mystery.

“Wrong!” declared Draco.

“Excuse me?” Hermione turned to him, arms akimbo. “I think you’ll find that all the evidence points to my solid conclusion.”

“There was no motivation or opportunity, which Hounslow mentioned in his speech. Obviously that means that someone is guilty.”

“Well, actually, Malfoy, I was just talking-”

“Which, if you refer to the statement from the spouse of the victim, they claim to have been in another room. Now, why would spouses sleep in separate rooms? They had been fighting. So the spouse made the hole next tot he fireplace and locked the door, slipping the key underneath the door into the room to make it look like it had been locked by the victim. Therefore, the spouse did it.”

“Harry?” Hermione turned to her friend who sat up a little straighter in his seat.

“Well, you both make really good arguments, but you missed out the fact that the spouse was not home that night as they were with their mother, who was in St Mungos for the night. You also missed the claw marks along the wood of the bed frame. It was a Scandinavian Hag that escaped the cell in the basement where the victim was doing a study on it - all humane, Hermione - it escaped and true to its nature, smothered the victim. Which begs the question, where is the Hag now?”

“Standing in front of us, Potter,” Draco smirked.

Instead of answering, Hermione hit him in the chest with the back of her hand and turned back to the board. After a few more minutes, she tilted her head back in an old defensive tick from her childhood. “Harry, after further examination, I must agree with you.”

“And Potter wins the first round!” Hounslow bellowed, holding Harry’s arm up in victory. “Now, I need our challengers to take a seat, please. Bibbins, please bring in the next challenge.”

Bibbins and two other Aurors stepped into the room carrying a rather thick file in their arms and placed it in front of Hermione, Draco and Harry.

“One of the most tedious aspects of law enforcement is the paperwork and yet it is just as important as the very clues that lead us to our criminal. In this round, the first challenger to finish the paperwork in the files in front of them wins. But remember, your handwriting must be legible.” Hounslow gave a pointed look at Harry. “Go!”

Draco pulled his file towards him while summoning three quills and an inkpot to the table. He was just about to start writing when he heard an odd clicking sound. He looked up and saw Granger holding a small metal stick and she kept pushing on one end with her thumb that caused a clicking sound.

“What in the depths of Hades is that and why is it making that noise?” He pointed at her hands.

Granger looked up, down at her hands and up at Draco. “Its a ballpoint pen.”

“Does it require that clicking noise to work?”

Hermione blinked owlishly at him. “No?”

“Then I suggest you stop making that noise before I transfigure it into a lizard.”

“Maybe if you stopped complaining about my writing implement and concentrated on your paperwork, you may actually win a round.”

“That infernal noise you’re making can be construed as cheating.”

“It’s hardly cheating.”

“It’s like coughing just as a golfer makes his shot.”

“A pointless sport to make a pointless...point.”

“My point is you’re cheating.”

“I’m not cheating.”

“Using a muggle pen is cheating.”

“Says who?”

“...Hounslow.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Please don’t bring me into this. But there is no rule against what you use to complete your forms, as long as it’s black ink.”

“Will you stop with the clicking!” Draco broke his quill in half and threw it across the table in agitation.”

“Uh, Hounslow, I’m done.” Harry held up his hand as if back in a classroom.

“And Potter wins round two!”

Draco stood up and pointed his finger at Hermione, but words escaped him.

“With Potter as the front runner, we have one more task. This is the motherload. If Malfoy or Granger win this round, they win the Tournament!” Hounslow announced.

“How is that fair?” Harry felt the need to ask.

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I thought Granger would win this one, so I designed each challenge with one of your strengths in mind. The fact that you won two now is a fluke, really.”

Harry simply flipped Hounslow off.

“Moving on,” Hounslow smiled. “In Head Auror  Muscipula’s office is a pot of gold. I will not reveal the origin of this pot nor shall I tell you why we have it. The office has three points of entry, each one charmed and guarded by an Auror. Your mission is to retrieve the pot of gold and replace it with a Petrified Pixie that you need to take from the evidence room, also heavily charmed and guarded.”

The three challengers stared at Hounslow with expressions of horror (Hermione), disdain (Draco) and questioning all his life decisions (Harry).

“Right, go!” Hounslow’s bellow echoed through the bullpen and the challengers ran off in different directions. “That buys us about fifteen minutes, fellows. Anyone want to make any changes to their bets? Speak now or forever remain a loser.”

Harry raced out of the office and Floo’d home. He dug out his invisibility cloak from a box in the attic and quickly returned to the office. He knew there was a gap in the wards where the evidence room pressed up against the bathroom. No one wanted to set off the alarms if they accidentally leaned against the urinal wall and so the wards did not extend the full length of the wall. Whispering a charm, Harry tried to ignore the fact that Grymes had occupied one of the stalls for his daily...movement, and pushed through the wall into the evidence room.

It was dark inside, with only a few mage lights suspended at infrequent intervals, causing more shadows than helpful lighting amongst the dozens of shelves. He headed straight for the cage that held the pixies. Hermione had thrown a fit when she heard about the pixies after he’d first collected them, but there was nothing they could do until the case was closed and they could free the pixes. They fell into some judicial grey area that Hermione had sworn to amend until Harry distracted her with a glass of wine and tales of Draco’s latest arrests. That had led Hermione into a rant about the incompetence of the Unspeakables division and how he made her job so much harder by skipping protocols and skating the lines of lawful prosecution.

There was a thud, the rattle of evidence beakers and a whisper of expletives from a nearby aisle which Harry quickly passed. 

As he reached the pixie cage, he flinched as somewhere behind him someone who sounded a lot like Draco snarled ‘Fuck!”. What was more unnerving was the groan that followed. It was distinctly female and husky. 

Harry bit his lip, made quick work of the cage door and grabbed a pixie before retracing his steps. He was nearly at his exit when a bra landed in front of him on the ground. Harry stepped over it and nearly fell through the bathroom wall, catching Grymes at the washbasin washing his hands. He slipped past the Auror, out the bathroom door and headed towards the office with the pot of gold.

With the kind of luck that helped him survive his childhood, Harry managed to slip into the office undetected and revealed himself as he held up the pot with the gold coins.

Hounslow cheered with the rest of the team and announced Harry the winner. He had looked around for the other two challengers, but Harry quickly distracted him by suggesting a victory round at Maggie’s, to which everyone agreed.

He went back to the office later, after the shift change and kept himself busy as he waited for Hermione and Draco to make their appearance.

It was a while before they skulked into the bullpen.

“So, do you want to know why we have this pot of gold?” Harry asked, enjoying watching the two nearly jump out of their skins. “Turns out, the pot is about the two of you. The lads were making bets about when you’d finally get together.”

Hermione and Draco opened their mouths to protest but Harry cut them off with his hand. “This is what we’ll do. You,” he pointed to Malfoy. “Ask Hermione out tomorrow in front of everyone. That will make me the official winner of the pot and I’ll split it with you.”

The couple exchanged a smile. “Keep it,” said Draco. “I much prefer the sneaking around.”

“Besides,” added Hermione. “Who says tomorrow would be the first time Draco asked me out?”

Hermione grabbed her briefcase from Harry’s desk and with her hand in the crook of Draco’s elbow, they left the bullpen.

Harry sighed and shook his head. He threw some floo powder into a nearby floo.

“Harry!”

“Ginny, put on your best dress. Tonight I’m taking you out on the town.”

The End


End file.
